My Resident Zen for Surviving the Dark


The night’s venom boiled down upon the day

Blistered the hours like an incurable leprosy

Then the garden stepped into the swollen mass

Of misery, malignancy and matted murdered hope

And wrapped its steely green over the remnants

Of ragged survival that fluttered around like butterflies

Flying away from 5 fierce felines eyeing them wickedly

The garden’s helpers surrounded tampered hope to

Piece together something to hold up to the crashing


Innocence lay in wait for the torpor of time inside

The fat milk chocolate paisley cat who displayed always

Eternally a somewhat maddening restfulness, an irritating

Happiness that somehow put me in mind of all those experts

Of Zen Meditation or whatever it is they advocate, about

Living inside each moment, minding the moments or

Minting them like fresh, pure totally inner gold coins


Padded up to stash herself on the pot of the best and

Most expensive pink fittonia that glittered over the day

Like another free increment from the shelves of heaven’s

Cabinets which store the oddest, most unexpected advances

Into adventure and entrancement, worth and witticism to

Savour especially inside the ruinous darkening dismemberment

My resident fur coated Zen was an unnerving combination

Of joyous peace and startling serenity, very deceptive of course

As she could quite easily and often did pounce on the other

Felines with intent to murder if she found them eating her

Catnip or that expensive gourmet cat food sometimes brought

But her unbelievable delight in everything in sight, a kind

Of irksome readiness to be radiant without reason, to blink

Like the gold lights of some kind of heavenly Mercedes was

Always awesome and rubbed away much of the muck inside!


Pics and text: daksha





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